


Of Zaphias

by monado



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-09 03:17:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17993816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monado/pseuds/monado
Summary: Resentment has always attached itself to Yuri, when Flynn is involved.





	Of Zaphias

**Author's Note:**

> fluris for the soul(?)

Flynn tests him.

By all accounts, this is the closest they've gotten to _peaceful_ in a long while. But storming the Heracles is awful, and long, and the slate grey is starting to burn in to Yuri’s vision, and the characteristic tension Flynn infects their relationship with is hale and hearty.

That's not fair of him to think, and he knows it. It's not like Yuri’s been a shining paragon of a person, and the clash of ideals (though escalated) is far from new, but it still chafes and scrapes with every step of Flynn’s greaves, every shudder of armour.

His teeth gnash every time Flynn opens his mouth. Kind, dulcet words to ingratiate himself with Yuri’s group. Suggestions on how to proceed even when they don't need it. “Behind you, Yuri,” -- he knows, he _knows_.

Maybe he lets it show in his steps or his gait, but a tug at his sleeve has his mouth twisting in dread.

Sure enough, Karol stands slightly behind him, concern pooling and unbearably concentrated. “Yuri?”

Yuri blinks once, takes a breath, relaxes his shoulders. “Yeah?”

He watches Karol drop his hand out of the corner of his eye. “You good?”

“Yep.”

Dissatisfied but unwilling to push it (not when there are bigger things to worry about, like Estelle’s location, Estelle’s suffering, Estelle’s life draining away by the second, selfish bastard), Karol wanders ahead.

Yuri redoubles his efforts.

It's ultimately worth nothing when the golden boy himself drops back to walk with him. “Yuri?”

“Getting that a lot lately,” he mutters, not without a streak of resentment. “What?”

The air between them grows thick and he just _knows_ Flynn’s got that offended, sad puppy-dog look about him. Yuri turns his head as far away from him as possible while still seeming casual.

“I’m sorry.”

Confusion flares enough within him that he turns to meet his gaze. Flynn’s got a way of seeming like he's looking straight into Yuri’s soul -- maybe he is, maybe not -- but it's unnerving, and a flare of anger takes root in his chest again. “For what? Letting Estelle slip through your fingers?” He quirks an eyebrow.

Flynn snaps his mouth shut and looks down. “I can't do anything about the past. All I can do is make up for it now.” His voice is entirely too patient. It makes Yuri angrier.

He knows he's being petty, and he knows there's no reason for it. He can't stop himself. “So, what? You get a free pass on it because you’re sorry?”

Disappointment cuts from the creases around Flynn’s eyes straight to Yuri’s core. “What's really going on, Yuri?”

Yuri snorts. “Nothing.”

They're silent for a bit, trailing behind the rest of the group as they wander back and forth with the Sorcerer's Ring. Karol fumbles the ring, and Rita snags it from him -- a golden opportunity to escape, to seamlessly join in on the ribbing -- but Flynn’s gentle grip on his shoulder stops him cold.

“Please.”

Yuri freezes. And waits. And when he turns, Flynn’s visibly lost, brows tilted back, eyes pleading and heavy, the weight of everything they've gone through, all the divides between them driving down on his tongue, stealing the words away.

Yuri shrugs his hand off and joins the fray.


End file.
